


Don't Love Me

by toowincesttolive



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toowincesttolive/pseuds/toowincesttolive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What is the damn problem?” Sam finally said, startling Dean into with a little jump.</p>
<p>"It’s not- You just- We don’t," Dean started and stopped, thinking of how to say what he needs to. “You don’t love me anymore, Sam.” Dean said it like it was a fact. The words struck Sam like a knife, cutting him open and gutting him all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt to a one sentence fic prompt that I cannot find for the love of me anywhere but it is somewhere on tumblr. If anyone finds it throw it at me so I can give credit, thanks.

“Do you still want to leave?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sam was so close to being asleep, which comes sparingly these days. He wanted to slap Dean for bringing him out of his near-slumber.

“I’m talking about this life, me. Do you still want to leave?” Dean repeated.

“No?” Now was not the time for Dean to be questioning Sam’s loyalty. Some part of Sam understood that it had to do with the time Dean spent in hell. He said they tortured him everyday for forty years. Who’s to say they didn’t call up his memories of Sam and use those, too? “Dean, I’m so tired. Can we discuss this tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah… yeah,” Dean said, slowing into a whisper. He was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. It had been a year since he got dropped into his own grave and dug himself out, but it hadn’t changed anything. Heartache fades with time maybe, but hell doesn’t. It is seared into his brain. Dean can keep it at bay when he’s awake, but he can’t control his dreams. The way hell messed with his memories of Sam were the worst. He hadn’t said anything to Sam, of course, but sometimes he wondered which parts came form hell and which parts actually happened.

They both lay there in silence for a few more moments, in separate beds, but now they were both wide awake. Sam tossed and turned and felt the guilt eat at him until he finally rolled back and faced Dean. “No.”

“What?” Dean moved his gaze from the ceiling to Sam.

“No, I do not still want to leave. I haven’t really wanted to leave again since… well, since I died and you made that deal. Even when we hunt Lilith down and kill her, I won’t leave, and I won’t want to.” Sam said it like it was so simple, such an obvious truth.

Dean tried to accept the reassurance. He wanted to believe Sam, but he couldn’t. Sam didn’t know how he would feel after Lilith was dead. Lilith had been the mission for nearly two years now. Before that, it was because of their Dad. And before that, they didn’t even speak to each other. Dean was not prepared to live without either Sam or his Dad.

The room fell silent again while Dean sorted through his thoughts and Sam tried to sleep. Sam never got to sleep, so he settled on his side and watched Dean. He traced the outline of Dean's body through the sheets with his eyes and again gave thanks to whoever would listen for bringing Dean back. If he could, he’d have spent the rest of his just staring at Dean, counting the freckles on his face and the hairs on his head over and over forever.

Dean moved to look at Sam, and Sam faked sleeping. Dean gave a near-silent huff and turned back to the ceiling.

“What is the damn problem?” Sam finally said, startling Dean into with a little jump.

"It’s not- You just- We don’t," Dean started and stopped, thinking of how to say what he needs to. “You don’t love me anymore, Sam.” Dean said it like it was a fact. The words struck Sam like a knife, cutting him open and gutting him all at once.

“What?!” was all Sam could come up to reply. It was barely a whisper, but it felt like a scream.

“You’ve been going off with Ruby and messing around and… and… you just… you haven’t _touched_ me,” Dean sighed. The words sounded pathetic as he said them. Like he was just a horny ex-boyfriend begging to get laid.

The lightbulb went off in Sam’s head immediately. What Dean said was true, unfortunately, about Ruby. He didn’t even know about the demon blood. But the only reason Sam hadn’t _touched_ Dean was that he didn’t know about Hell. He didn’t want to trigger memories and he didn’t know how to get that part of their relationship back. If hell had conjured up a demon with Sam’s face that touched him like that, the real Sam would never touch him again if it kept those memories away from Dean. But here was Dean, _pleading_ for Sam to touch him and please him like he used to. And, God, it was such a relief to hear that.

Sam hopped out of his bed, throwing the covers back, and took one stride to Dean’s bed. Dean sat up slowly, staring at Sam. Sam touched Dean’s face gently, tilting his head up. Sam leaned down to within an inch of Dean’s lips and whispered, “I love you.” He didn’t wait for a response from Dean. He kissed him with all of the desperation he’d held onto for four months. He kissed him with all of the desperation he had held back since Dean was topside again. He kissed to try to get rid of all of those memories of hell, like he could replace them all with his lips and his body.

Dean let the tears fall down his face even though he hated them. He hated how they showed exactly how desperate he was. But, Sam wiped them away with the pads of his fingered and praised Dean for his love. He worshiped this love that had endured everything that should have torn it apart. Sam breathed in Dean’s scent and let his hands fall down his chest.

Both of them were panting hard, from the declaration of love and the sudden make out session, and Dean wanted more. Now that he had what he wanted, he wanted it all right now. He reached for Sam’s leg and pulled his knee  next to him. Sam got the idea and slid over Dean on the bed.

He pulled on Sam’s clothes, getting his shirt over his head. He looked over Sam’s chest and his toned muscles and felt his cock twitch. Sam had been doing for than fucking demons and getting drunk for four months. He could see Sam holding him up against a wall and fucking him like both their lives depended on it and he wanted it. But, not right now. Right now he wanted Sam to spread him out and make love to him the way Dean knew Sam needed to.

“Please,” Dean breathed. He was overwhelmed for the moment with emotion. This huge revelation was shaking his world and Sam was about to fuck him into next year and he was so happy, he almost couldn’t breathe.

“Hey. Hey hey,” Sam stopped undressing the two of them and placed one hand on Dean’s chest. “Breathe, Dean. Are you sure you’re up for this? It is pretty late.”

Dean took a deep breath. “No, Sam. I’m so ready, good God. I’m just shocked. Because I thought you-”

“But I do,” Sam grinned.

“I know.”

They didn’t move for a moment. Dean took a second to realize Sam was waiting for him to start. He rolled towards Sam and kissed him slowly this time. It seemed like it lasted forever as they just laid there. It was a very innocent kiss for a long time. They just held it there, until they needed to breathe. Dean wrapped one hand up in Sam’s hair. Sam pulled Dean closer to him with the arms he still had wrapped around Dean.

Sam smiled and kissed Dean deeper this time. This one didn’t stay innocent as long. Sam’s hands traveled, feeling every inch of Dean beneath his fingers. When they came up for air again, Sam was surprised to learn that he had tears on his own face.

“I missed you so much,” He whispered like praise into Dean’s skin, raising goosebumps along Dean’s arms. He kissed like the first cool morning after the blistering heat of summer. 

He awoke every part of Dean’s mind and body, and they were barely touching. Dean felt heat rising in his stomach for the first time since he got back that felt _good_. He’d slept with a few girls in his year, but it all felt dirty. He didn’t want it like he wanted this. He didn’t want sex. He wanted to _make love_ , and that’s what he felt when he was with Sam. He ran his hands against Sam’s muscular, toned back, rubbing his thinly clothed cock against Sam’s.

Sam moaned, relishing the encouragement. He drew his hands up to Dean’s head, petting his hair a few times and mapping the landscape of his cheeks and jaw with his thumbs. He let his hands fall on the back of Dean’s neck, moving and massaging down and then out across his shoulders, working praise into every muscle. Sam pressed his hands against Dean’s back, worshiping every inch of skin, then moving to his chest and his stomach and sides, whispering small affirmations of his love into every plane of skin. He made it to Dean waistband and moved back up to kiss Dean again.

Dean reached with one hand behind him into the drawer next to the bed. He fumbled for a second, then pulled the lube out. He handed it to Sam more gently than called for.

Sam took it, knowing this moment was about so much more than the lube. This was Dean’s trust that he’d held on to for so long, and Sam took it like it was the most fragile thing on earth. He didn’t have to ask Dean if he was sure because he could see how Dean was looking at him. He threw the comforter back and pulled Dean, on his back, between his legs. He pulled the waistband of Dean’s boxers down and off and let them drop to the floor. He pushed Dean’s legs apart and bent his knees. Sam’s cock twitched at the site of Dean on display for him. He covered a finger in a generous amount of lube, reminding himself that Dean hadn’t done this in a while. He stared right into Dean’s eyes while he pressed his finger around the rim, not even dipping in yet.

Part of Dean wanted Sam to prep him just enough so he wouldn’t break and fuck him until they broke the bed. But there was time for that tomorrow, too. Right now, he was glad Sam was taking it slow. He was glad Sam kept his eyes locked with his as much as he could. He let out a gorgeous whine when Sam finally pushed his finger in to the first joint, then to the knuckle.

Sam mouthed at Dean’s shoulder, working on another hickey while he moved his finger in Dean’s ass. He pushed and moved as best as he could, then added a second finger, wringing more sounds from Dean. He scissored his fingers and stretched Dean open for him. Any other time and he would already have four fingers working Dean’s ass. But this moment was too important for that. Sam wanted Dean to remember every touch and word and moan tonight. He wanted this night to be ingrained in Dean’s memory years from now, so Dean would have a clear reminder that Sam loved him. And would always love him.

Sam worked into three fingers, still moving them slower than he would have liked to. He didn’t want pain to be a part of this time for Dean. He moved through hand cramps and hardly let his mouth leave Dean’s skin the whole time. He reached four fingers after an eternity.

Dean’s breaths had become fast and deep, his cock grew harder with every movement Sam made. Everything felt so good, it almost didn’t seem real. He could hardly believe he had Sam all to himself again.

When he finally decided Dean had enough prep, Sam withdrew his fingers and coated his cock in lube. He lined himself up his Dean’s ass, taking a deep breath and looking back up to hold Dean’s gaze in his eyes.

Sam pushed in and stopped. He wasn’t waiting for Dean to tell him to move because he knew Dean was prepped enough. He stopped and he leaned down and pressed his lips to Dean’s lips and breathed in Dean’s air and let him know with every fiber of his being that he was okay. He was safe. That he loved him more than the he loved the sun when it fell on his skin or the air he breathed.

Dean was so overwhelmed with Sam’s love, tears again fell onto his cheeks. Perfect tears of joy and heartbreak and forgiveness and everything that Dean needed for so long. 

He let Sam explore his mouth with his tongue as he pulled out to the head and thrust back in, still moving less than a fraction of as fast as he would be moving tomorrow. He built up a slow, steady pace, pressed on Dean’s prostate every time.

Little quick “oh’s” and “uh’s” left Dean’s mouth at every thrust. He breathe picked up as Sam kept going. Sam knew Dean was getting closer. He watched until Dean held his breath and thrust one last time and pressed against Dean’s prostate.

Dean came with a sob that sounded faintly like “Sammy.” More tears washed over his face in the wake of his orgasm. Sam thrust in Dean’s ass with a sigh a few more times, erratically as he reached his peak and came, stilling against Dean. They remained together like that for a small eternity, feeling so close to each other like they hadn’t been for so long.

Sam finally pulled out and left Dean blissed out on the bed to get a warm wash cloth. He came back before Dean had noticed he’d left and wiped the sweat and tears from his beautiful, freckled face. He touched his skin along his shoulders and scooped the drying come from his chest and stomach. Sam lifted Dean’s legs again to catch some of the come leaking out of his hole. He tossed the rag to the trash when he was done and laid next to Dean on the bed. He pulled the comforter over the both of them and wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him into his chest. Dean was asleep by the time Sam got settled. He hoped that maybe that last “I love you” made it into Dean’s subconscious.

Dean slept better than he could remember sleeping since long before he went to hell.

**Author's Note:**

> please please PLEASE leave kudos, comment, or subscribe if you liked it!! Thanks!


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